


Growth Spurt

by Mayhem21



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Colonial era, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-18
Updated: 2014-10-18
Packaged: 2018-02-21 14:47:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2472122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mayhem21/pseuds/Mayhem21
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During a visit to the motherland, a grown colonial American runs into Wales.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Growth Spurt

**Author's Note:**

  * For [moonlighten](https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonlighten/gifts).



> My version of Wales here is inspiried by the brilliant author Moonlighten and her amazing depictions of England, Wales, Scotland, and Northern Ireland. You should seriously go check her stuff. It's almost impossible for me to think of the UK personifications in any fashion besides what she's written.

Wales gasped as the breath was knocked from him as he rebounded off what felt like wall.

"Oh God," came a panicked thought as his feet refused to remained on the ground. He instinctively tucked the thick book he carried to his chest with one hand while the other made a wild grope to slow his fall.

Large, strong hands seized his flailing limb, clasping at his hand and arm, and abruptly arresting his downward motion.

Heart pounding wildly, Wales took a moment, his mind blank at the sudden collision and near fall.

"I am so sorry!" exclaimed a voice. The grip on his arm tightened and his hand released as the mountain he had collided with grasped his bent elbow and hauled him upright.

Wales stared stupidly at a neat linen shirt and jacket, heard a harder ‘r’ than many in England used of late in the words continuing to pour out of the Other, and felt an undeniably familiar presence.

"A-America," he weakly asked, raising disbelieving eyes to stare up (up?!) at bright sky-blue eyes and sun-gold hair, a single short lock standing proudly erect in contrast to its better behaved kin.

His brother’s colony, his colony as well in the most technical sense, halted the flow of effusive apologies spilling forth to instead offer a sheepish smile.

"Britain has always told me to stop dashing about so," America replied, his tone rueful. "We only just made port a short time ago and while I was happy to assist the sailors as best I could during our voyage across the Atlantic, I am happier still to have dry land under my feet."

He released Wales’s arms and stepped back to a more respectful distance. America’s sudden burst of laughter was both strange and familiar — the familiar intensity and joy sounding at a shockingly low pitch.

"It seems Britain has been caught wholly by surprise by my rate of growth since his previous visit to the New World!" America’s humor continue a few more moments before he wrinkled his nose in distaste. "He is ordering a brand new wardrobe for me. I have only just escaped the clutches of his tailor and painful review of current court fashion."

Wales shook his shocked mind aright, groping for am appropriate response. “Having endured England’s determined attention to one’s wardrobe, let me offer you my most sincere sympathies!”

He paused a moment, wanting turn to America’s shocking growth if he could nut determine the words needed to sway the flow of dialogue.

Fate, however, decided that his desired topic would need to be addressed another time.

America’s eyes went wide when a heavy stride began to echo down the corridor. He caught Wales’s eye and cast a mischievous look his way. “I would be quite appreciative if you could delay this newcomer. I have no wish to return to discussions of cloth!”

And then with a cheery grin, America sprang away, as swift and fleet as any deer, disappearing up the nearby flight of stairs and away from possibly pending orders to return to Britain’s tailor.

Moments later, Scotland appeared in the corridor, the dark scowl on his face clearly declaring his knowledge of England’s return to the stately dwelling. He slowed, then paused, eyes taking in Wales’s disheveled state.

"Dare I ask why you look as though you have been recently trampled by a herd of sheep?" Scotland asked, brow furrowing.

Wales considered for a moment before simply replying “England brought America back with him from the Colonies.”

His brother’s face relaxed as he remembered the shy colony England had introduced to them decades earlier. “Ah, still running about with the care and grace of a young pup?” A fond smile crept across Scotland’s normally dour face. “It’s high time the runt brought that wee lad back around. It’s been, what, ten years since his last visit?”

"A bit more, I think," Wales slowly responded, "but not by much." He continued, "I dare say he will be eager to catch-up at dinner."

His brother hummed softly in agreement. For a moment, Wales considered speaking up regarding the colony’s shockingly quick growth spurt. He concluded, finally, that it would serve both his brother right to abruptly find himself face-to-face with the colony that had formerly demanded so much extra care and attention.

Yes, he decided, dinner was going to be quite the event.”

**Author's Note:**

> I've always had a vision of American coming to London with England after his sudden shocking growth and the UK family being just as shocked to see America so tall and so old as England was in the canonnical episode. 
> 
> I might add another part to this someday but we'll see what happens. This is complete as-is.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed!


End file.
